


Seeker of Truth

by oyakodon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ...and what about Ignis?, Eventual Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gladio and Noct get into a petty fight, Humor, Mystery, Platonic Relationships, Prompto plays detective, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oyakodon/pseuds/oyakodon
Summary: Noct looks up, grinning. “Wanna hear a story about Gladio being a jerk? A story that makes you question why he’s still my future Shield?”Well, if that doesn’t sound like someone bears a grudge. Why can’t Prompto help thinking it’s something petty, though? Still, he wants to know.“Shoot.”Prompto uncovers the truth behind an unresolved (and very petty) feud between his friends. Prompto being Prompto, he learns to love them even more despite—or because of?—this revelation.





	Seeker of Truth

Princes really _do_ suck at videogames.

Prompto watches how Noct tries, and horribly fails, to beat a weak side boss of Crystal Warriors XV. He’s on his third try for gods’ sakes! When will he ever admit defeat and let Prompto take over?

He doesn’t appear to be admitting defeat any time soon, though, so Prompto decides to give up on watching His Highness’ pathetic performance and stands from the sofa. This is _the_ opportunity to explore Noct’s high-end apartment. The bookshelf catches his attention, or rather Noct’s gigantic comic collection. Prompto didn’t have a chance to check it out yet since they became friends a month or so ago.

Now’s the time. Prompto rubs his hands in anticipation.

But before he even gets to go through the comics, his eyes land on a framed picture: a picture of Noct, Ignis, and Gladio. Noct looks younger here, about the age when they got into junior high school and when Prompto had still been too much of a coward to approach him. Noct wears a goofy smile in the picture and he’s holding a fancy fishing rod in his hands that’s wrapped in gift ribbon. The picture must’ve been taken on his birthday. Ignis and Gladio have proud smiles on their faces; was the rod a shared present from the two of them?

Prompto smiles to himself. It’s kind of sweet that someone like Noct who appears so aloof on the outside keeps a framed picture of his friends around; Noct’s a softie on the inside, after all.

Inwardly, Prompto hopes there’s going to be a picture like that with himself in it, too, one day...

Still, it’s weird how the three of them look together. Noct, with Gladio, the musclehead, and Ignis, the bookish guy. He’s seen them around countless times when they came picking up Noct from school, and boy are they intimidating and so much more _grown-up. _But are the three of them real friends or just tied by duty or whatever?

“So, the three of you,” Prompto says.

“Hm?” comes Noct’s absent-minded response from the couch.

Prompto specifies, “I mean you, Ignis, and Gladio!”

“What ‘bout us?”

Noct’s not taking his eyes off the television. His character gives a horrible death cry as he’s eaten by a huge spider monster, but Noct doesn’t even flinch. He continues tapping away as if he’s still got a fighting chance.

Prompto’s more interested in this weird friendship between Noct, Ignis and Gladio, though.

“Don’t get me wrong, but do you guys get along? You’re so…” He struggles for words, and he finds himself fumbling around with his hands in emphasis even though Noct isn't even looking his way, “…different!” Don’t you ever get into fights?”

“Oh, we fight all the time,” Noct says, then adds, “or at least me and Gladio. Ignis never gets angry, but he gets scary, I guess.”

“For real?” So, the Prince’s bodyguard gets into fights with his liege? Is that allowed? Now he’s curious. “What kind of fights do you get into?”

At last, Noct pauses the game—it’s game over anyway—and looks up, grinning. “Wanna hear a story about Gladio being a jerk? A story that makes you question why he’s still my future Shield?”

Well, if that doesn’t sound like someone bears a grudge. Why can’t Prompto help thinking it’s something petty, though? Still, he wants to know.

“Shoot.”

Noct clears his throat. “You see that picture over there? It all started with me having a wonderful day out fishing with the rod the guys got me for my birthday. But…” His face turns fake-serious. “But it turned into a nightmare. All because of Gladio that behemoth! So, it went like this…”

It was the perfect Sunday to be out fishing. The weather was the kind that normally brought people out of doors, but to his luck, Central Canal was deserted. That meant Noctis had the time of his life sitting on a small pier, fishing in quiet with no passersby gaping at his princely self. Okay, there was Gladio, because no one wanted to ever let him forget that he was the Crown Prince and had to be watched around the clock. He was thirteen years old, not five! But at least Gladio knew his stuff when it came to fishing.

Still, the best thing about that day was he’d finally get to use his new, shiny fishing rod. Now only a fish needed to bite. Then Noctis could bring back his prize and have Ignis cook him fresh fish for dinner. His mouth watered at the thought of the crispy-skinned fillet.

“Fish won’t bite, huh?” said Gladio from beside him. “Guess that’s why no anglers are around today.”

Na ah, Noctis wouldn’t give up that easily. He wanted today to be just perfect.

Yet no fish showed up. There was no splash, no silhouette beneath the water surface. Nothing.

He was close to nodding off, waiting for _something_ to happen beneath the water surface, when a familiar voice called out from the sidewalk.

“Gladdy! What’re you doing here? Oh, Noct, too!” Iris shrieked as she came running over, an apologetic Jared close behind.

So much for a quiet time fishing. Gladio’s little sister was _chatty_. “Hi Iris,” Noctis said, already dreading what was to come.

“I’m so happy to see you, Noct!” she said, her voice quivering with excitement. “Hey, can I show you something?”

All he wanted was to fish, but the way she looked at him, eyes moist and hopeful, had Noctis sigh in defeat. “Sure.”

He secured his rod into the rod holder. “You watch my stuff while I’m gone, okay?” he asked Gladio who only gave a grunt in response, not even looking up from his phone.

As it turned out, Iris had found a kitten. An adorable one at that—though that’s not important for this story. So _maybe_ Noctis was enamored and ended up staying longer than planned. It did occur to him that he shouldn’t leave his rod unattended for so long, but Gladio was there to watch over it. That was what a Shield was there for, right?

At last, though, he had to say goodbye to the kitten and Iris, and returned to the pier, hoping he’d have better luck hauling something in at his second try.

However, when he returned to his fishing spot at last…

“My rod,” cried Noctis. “Where’s my rod?!”

His beloved, new, shiny, perfect fishing rod was _gone_. It had vanished from the holder, disappeared into thin air, or most likely into the watery depths of the canal.

He looked up at Gladio. His Shield stood there, staring down into the Canal, with eyes of a daemon.

* * *

Prompto and Gladio became friends around the time Prompto joined Noct’s Crownsguard, but it was the shared morning runs they actually bonded over. It all began with a coincidence: their routes crossed at Central Canal, so they eventually started meeting up every morning, running the stretch together.

Today, too, is such a day. They met up at Central Bridge at seven a.m. and are about to finish the first round. It’s a sunny morning and more people than usual are about. The piers are filled with anglers. It makes Prompto remember a story Noct told him a long time ago, about Central Canal and Gladio.

_“It’s__ fine though,” _Noct had told him later. _“Ignis got me a new rod of the exact same model. What annoys me is that Gladio never even admitted to it_.” Noct still seems to be low-key mad about that, years later. And Prompto’s always been kind of curious about what Gladio has to say in his defense.

As they jog past the piers, Prompto sneaks a peek at Gladio. “Say Gladio,” he says between breaths, “was it here you broke Noct’s fishing rod years ago?”

“What?” comes Gladio’s gruff reply.

“Y’know, Noct told me a story about you and this place. One that doesn’t paint you in the best light.” He can’t help smirking. He’s looking forward to Gladio’s reaction.

“Oh. _That_ story?”

“You know which one?”

“Course I do,” says Gladio, scoffing. “Kid shares it with everyone. ‘m not sure there’s someone left who hasn’t heard it. But,” he continues, and Prompto’s all ears, “I tell ya, that’s not how it went at all.”

Okay, that’s unexpected. “You sayin’ he lied?”

“Oh, lie he did. It went all different, believe me. I’m as innocent as a newborn babe.”

Prompto finds it hard to imagine Gladio as a newborn babe, but still, he stops in his tracks, making Gladio stop too. He wants to hear Gladio’s side of the story. “Tell me, then!”

“Okay,” Gladio says, then walks to a nearby bench, waving Prompto over. “Noct probably told you how I kicked his fishing rod into the canal and my eyes were all daemon-like, huh?”

Prompto nods.

“This brat. For all I know, he’s just too embarrassed to admit he was negligent. I tell ya how the story really went. You see, what actually happened was this…”

Clearing his throat, Gladio begins to narrate.

“It was the perfect Sunday to be reading a good novel in the manor’s garden. I was at the best part of the story too, where Claudius and Andrius finally face off against each other, an epic fight sure to follow that would determine the fate of the whole of Lucis, and, of course, whom of the two would marry Lady Cordelia. That was until I was asked to watch over His—"

“Wait, wait!” Prompto butts in. “No need to tell me _everything_. Just tell me what happened with the rod.”

Gladio looks disappointed. It seems he wants to talk more about the novel than what happened with Noct. “Tsk, fine.” In a much less enthusiastic tone, he says, “So, it wasn’t me ‘cause I wasn’t even there when it happened.”

“Uh, what?”

Gladio looks away. “Look. I was bored outta my mind. Couldn’t even bring my novel. And then there were these built ladies walking by, and believe me, they were gorgeous, so—"

Prompto sighs. _That_ was it? That was the truth behind Noct’s lost rod? “Okay, I heard enough. You flirted with some girls and let Noct’s rod out of sight.”

“Yeah, when I came back, the rod was gone. I bet Noct just didn’t secure it tightly enough and when a fish tugged on it, it fell in the Canal and was swept away.”

Prompto hums. Gladio isn’t a daemon and it was an unfortunate accident. This is it. Mystery solved, case closed.

* * *

It took Prompto and Ignis longer to warm up to each other, but by the time the four of them departed for their journey to Altissia, Prompto considered Ignis his friend and he knew Ignis returned the sentiment. Gladio often accompanied Noct to his fishing trips after they set camp for the day, while Ignis and Prompto stayed behind. Prompto would help Ignis with dinner preparations or other chores. He enjoyed those quiet moments just between the two of them.

This very afternoon, he and Ignis are in the middle of cleaning out the armiger in their hotel room in Old Lestallum, planning to bring some order back into the chaos—Noct’s chaos—as half of what they carry around is literal trash. Is it really necessary to store forty different types of fishing lures?

It’s when Prompto chances upon something he wouldn’t have expected to find in the armiger at all—the framed picture of Noct, Ignis, and Gladio—that he remembers this little unresolved feud between Noct and Gladio. Gladio’s words from a couple of years ago come back to him. “_If Noct could only let his pride not get in the way for once. He oughta know it was his own fault__ for being careless and not securing the rod tightly enough,”_ Gladio had said.

Prompto wants to believe him because this would make great blackmailing material against his best friend, but he’s honestly got no clue who’s in the right.

Eying Ignis who’s busying himself with throwing away expired dog food for Umbra, Prompto wonders why he’s never thought of asking the smartest guy in their group. Ignis would know what really happened.

“Ignis?”

“Yes?”

He slides the picture over to Ignis and asks, “Does this ring a bell?”

Ignis freezes as he regards the picture. “What’s the matter with it?” he asks, voice tight.

“I heard you weren’t there in person, but do you remember Noct’s and Gladio’s fight way back, about how Noct’s rod got lost? You got him a new one, right?”

Ignis hums as if debating whether to share his thoughts or not.

Prompto continues, laughing, “It’s kinda funny how they’re so petty about it when it was just an accident.”

“An accident,” Ignis states dryly. “If you say so.”

“Uh, what?”

Ignis gives Prompto a strange, contemplative look. “Tell me, Prompto,” he says at last, “is it the truth you seek?”

The truth? Why, of course! Prompto nods eagerly. Now’s the moment he’s been waiting for. The truth will be revealed at last.

Ignis says, “I can tell you what happened, but…” He pauses, breaking eye contact. Something’s weird about him. “But please take into consideration…there’re always different sides to a story…very valid sides, too.” A slight blush forms across his cheeks.

“Wait…“ Prompto says. It dawns on him. “Are you low-key confessing right now?”

Ignis’s look is all the answer Prompto needs. He’s never seen him this flustered before. “I…had my reasons for keeping it secret,” is Ignis’s reluctant reply.

Prompto gets it now. Noct and Gladio had it all wrong. Who’d have thought…

“Prompto,” says Ignis next, the desperate tone gone, and in its stead something almost intimidating.

“Y-yeah?” Why does Prompto have a bad feeling about this?

Ignis leans close to him, eyes glinting. “This will stay between us, do you understand?”

For a moment, Prompto’s scared. Ignis is the scary one, not Gladio. Noct had told him so, a long time ago. Now he can see why.

It’s been Ignis all along. The true culprit.

Prompto nods because he’s hella scared. What should he—

“Ha!” comes a voice from the direction of the door to their hotel room, startling Prompto. The voice—Noct—continues, “We’ve got the culprit!”

Ignis flinches. “E-excuse me?”

Gladio, too, stomps into the room, a smug look on his face. “We’ve suspected it all along, but now we’ve got you where we want you.”

Ignis sounds affronted. “You _planned _this?”

Almost at the same time, Prompto comes to a realization of his own, and blurts, “Wait, did you use me to get Ignis to confess?”

“We knew he’d confess if it was you,” says Gladio. “People tend to confide in you.”

“Confess your crimes, Iggy,” Noct says, and he looks hilarious this way, acting like some detective, pointing at Ignis like he’s a murderer. “It was you all along!”

Gladio adds, “Yeah, and worse, you made Noct believe it was _my_ fault.”

Prompto expects Ignis to deny it or give them a plausible excuse, but what he doesn’t expect…is Ignis breaking down.

Oh boy.

“Noct…” the usually stoic advisor says almost pleadingly. He looks close to tears and it tugs at Prompto’s heartstrings. He’s seen so many new sides of Ignis today, he doesn’t know what to think anymore. But right now, he wants to hug him.

Ignis continues, “Please accept my apologies. It was all my fault.” He gives Noct a desperate look. “It was an accident.”

Ignis confesses at last.

Ignis remembers that Sunday as if it was yesterday. Noct wanted to go fishing, and the only guard sent with him for his protection was…Gladio. Ignis had his reservations. After all, Gladio was only fifteen years old. Was he to be entrusted with the safety of the Crown Prince, of Ignis’s dearest friend? Still, Ignis held his tongue. Surely, everything would go well; it was just a fishing trip to Central Canal.

Then he heard the news of a threatening letter having had arrived at the Citadel that morning, and he panicked.

So, he followed them.

When he arrived at Noct’s favorite pier, hiding behind a bush like some stalker, he grew concerned. He saw Noct’s new rod—the one Ignis himself had selected together with Gladio only a few days prior—secured to a holder and their bags strewn around, but neither Gladio nor Noct were anywhere nearby. Had something happened? Had they been ambushed? Had someone kidnapped Noct?

Unable to bear it any longer, he approached their belongings, looking for clues. Nothing appeared amiss, aside from the fact that the owners of the bags were nowhere to be seen. But then…

Ignis sighted the figure of Gladio in the distance, approaching the pier. He’d have been relieved seeing Gladio sound and safe—Noct, too, must be close—was it not for the fact that he, Ignis, shouldn’t be here at the pier, going through his friends’ belongings. If Gladio spotted him… Just the thought made Ignis shudder.

Ignis crouched low, backing away and thinking of a plan. It was then that he bumped against something behind him and—

Oh no, the rod. Ignis watched petrified as it tilted forward and fell, almost in slow motion, down into the Canal.

It fell and fell and fell.

_Splash._

Mortified, Ignis had two seconds to think up a plan to save it _and _his honor before Gladio would catch sight of him. He looked down, where the rod was floating on the water surface, and…

Noct and Gladio burst out laughing like the idiots they are, and Prompto can’t hold back his own giggling. Ignis, meanwhile, sits there, dumbfounded. Prompto feels sorry for him…but he can’t stop laughing.

“This is no laughing matter,” says Ignis.

“Iggy,” Noct says between his laughing and wheezing, “it’s been _years._ Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was,” Ignis says, swallowing audibly, “too ashamed…of distrusting Gladio, of following after you, of what happened to your rod. Simple as that. Even though living with the guilt and shame for so long was unbearable…” he admits, “…it was better than you knowing.” After a pause, he adds, “Yet I’m grateful Prompto brought out the truth.“ He gives Prompto a small, sincere smile.

Prompto blushes. Oh, Iggy. Oh, his dork friends. He’s just so happy to be included into this bunch even though they are the dumbest dudes he’s ever known.

He lunges forward, collecting Ignis into a hug. Noct and Gladio join no more than a second later.

After a long, comfortable silence, Noct mumbles, “You do know that I care more about you guys than my fishing rods, right?”

Prompto’s reply gets mixed with the others.

“Almost had me fooled, dude.”—“No kiddin’.”—“Is that so, Noct?”

Later, Noct takes Prompto aside.

“Just so you know, that one’s not the only picture I carry around, okay?” he says, then shoves something into Prompto’s hands, and quickly faces away, his ears turning red at the tips.

Prompto looks down at that something in his hands.

It’s a picture of the_ four_ of them, Prompto right there at Noct’s side, arms thrown over each other’s shoulder as they grin broadly at the camera.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story!  
This was probably the happiest thing I've ever written, there was not even a hint of angst there...which is very unusual for me, haha. But it was a nice kind of experiment, though maybe a bit silly!  
Anyway, feel free to let me know your opinion if you feel like it. :)
> 
> By the way, this story was written for the Ever At Your Side project which is all about the beautiful friendships in Final Fantasy XV! Feel free to check it out on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/atyoursidezine)
> 
> Also, shout-out to lovely [littlecakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/pseuds/littlecakes) for beta-reading and being a wonderful mod!
> 
> [tumblr](https://myoyakodon.tumblr.com/)  
[twitter](https://twitter.com/oyashiran)  



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